


A Pile of Shards

by PrincessOfHell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessOfHell/pseuds/PrincessOfHell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries ago, the cause of death of the men and women of the Maya civilization wasn't a natural calamity but Supernatural forces. These forces were imprisoned by God in hourglasses, buried in the sands of time. With the Winchesters coming across these forces and accidentally letting them free, will it be  the end of times or the Winchesters?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Orange and black flames licked the sky like a lion does water. The grey, smoldering ash formed a dark shroud that eclipsed the red of the Sun. Rivers of boiling crimson flowed amidst the burning debris, carrying bodies with cold, still eyes. Screams of pain and death hit the barrier of ash and echoed in the atmosphere of horror. It reeked of copper and guts, left behind by those passing on their humanity to transform into spirits unable to cross over to the other side of life.   
Bellows of laughter and power were heard followed by the squelch of guts spilling and crunch of bones shattering, animals and humans alike tried to flee their impending death only to find themselves cornered by it.   
A lone owl sat on a tree that lay circled by fire. Slowly, like blood in the veins, the flames climbed till the branches of the tree where the owl sat perched and sent it flying into the air only to hit the unforgiving wall of suffocation and plummet to its death.  
“Isn’t it fascinating? How Father’s ‘favorite’ creatures are easier to kill than a roach?” said a man perched on top of the North side of the Tikal Temple uplifted by the men of the Maya civilization. He wore a long robe and the occasional flashes of darkness revealed a large span of wings that were attached to his back.   
Three more similar figures sat on it with him, each facing South, West and East directions respectively.   
“Their ways are quite fascinating, Aram, not just because they die easy. But, our spawns are just stronger than these mortals. Don’t know why Father favors such weak beings” said the one perched facing West named Penemue.   
“It is probably because they are so fragile that Father favors them… You have seen them right, how they handle their newly borns with utmost care… Maybe Father feels that way too… Just shows that they are mindless, child-like apes” said Asbeel, looking at the destruction that was taking place from the Southern side of temple.   
“Aha! Gadreel’s spawn is turning out to be quite the champion! Look at her! She is tearing the humans apart like they are dried leaves that crumble easy!” spoke Kasdaye from the eastern side of things.   
“Sad thing he got captured, though. He is unable to see our children take over these insolent mortals… After all, it was he who let us in here to have fun with these playthings. But I rather it was him than either of us... he was always conflicted, changing mind like the wind does direction” Aram said, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched the Giant Nephilim spawns of the different classes of angels wreck havoc in the village that was occupied by the men, women and children of Maya.   
“I never considered him a part of our grigori… He and Abner were all too eager to do the crime and fault the others. I am glad he’s in prison, or else we would be” snorted Kasdaye. 

The four fallen angels of the grigori sat there, on the temple and watched the Mayan civilization die out, one by one for quite some time. 

It was only towards the death of the last group of the men of Maya did they notice flashes of lightning hit each of the Giant Nephilim and leave nothing but a smoldering pile of ash behind.   
By the time the lightning hit all the Nephilim, the civilization of Maya lay extinct with nothing but their remains left to hint the future of their existence.

The four angels stood on top of the Tikal, on high alert. They gazed up at the sky trying to figure out whether the next targets of the bolt of lightning were them. 

But what they didn’t notice was the sands from below rising in spirals towards each until it engulfed their whole form. Each lay batting and screaming in a vortex of sand. The whirls reached the top of the sky, thinning as they stretched upwards and once they touched the last rays of the Sun, they crashed back down to the Earth, the sands trapped in four hourglasses framed from the products of the Earth…

The sands of time lay encased in four fragments, each forming its own hourglass…


	2. Chapter 2

“Lie down, Dean or I’m going to cuff you to the bed!” said Sam with a hint of irritation in his voice.   
“ ‘mfineandowanlidn” came the reply.   
“What?!?”   
“I’m fine and I don’t wanna lie down!” whined Dean, his chest rattling and making squeaky sounds with each breath he took.  
“Fine? Have you seen yourself? You squeak like a rat every time you breathe your nose if running a race, your temperature is competing with the frying pan’s and you are babbling away like you are high on drugs! How’s that fine?” asked Sam, waving his arms around frantically.  
“You’re mean…and grumpy… and mean… and grumpy… and sasquatch-ey…” Dean babbled, blowing his nose on a Kleenex.   
“Okay, that’s it! I’m asking Bobby for some duct tape and handcuffs!” said Sam as he filled a glass with water and pushed it into Dean’s hand along with two pills.   
“Ooo Sammy…kinky” smirked Dean, downing the pills and the glass of water.   
“Shut up!” growled Sam and pushed him down on the bed, pulled the blanket up to his chin and turned the lights out.   
“Fanks, Sammy” Dean mumbled before his snores filled the silence in the house.  
Sam sighed long and hard and went downstairs to where Bobby was waiting for him with a beer.   
“He asleep?” asked Bobby once Sam made his way down, taking a sip of the cool liquid.   
“Finally” replied Sam, grabbing his own and plopping down on the couch with a groan.   
“Just where did he catch this virus from? It has been biting us for the past two days and doesn’t seem to be budging!” puzzled Bobby  
“Knowing Dean, probably in some bar… God knows what goes on in there” Sam said, gulping the whole bottle of beer in one go.   
“Well, things are surely gonna get more ‘whiny’ tomorrow so, I’m turning in… I suggest you do too” Bobby said, dropping his empty bottle in the trash can.   
“Yeah, you’re probably right… Night, Bobby”   
“Night, Sam”   
A few minutes later, Sam too fell into an exhausted and dreamless slumber.

………

………

………

………

………

………

“OH GOOD LORD!! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO DRIVE A PITCHFORK THROUGH MY BRAIN?!?!”

And that’s why Sam jerked awake at around two a.m. in the morning or… was it still night? He just didn’t know!  
He looked around, with wide, sleep heavy eyes and tousled hair. When his gaze landed upon Dean who was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed with both his hands clutching his head, he slumped back on his bed with a whine. He opened one eye and stared at Dean who was alternatively whimpering and mumbling under his breath.   
He got up, threw his comforter aside and marched into the bathroom to fetch some aspirin and water. He handed them to Dean and hovered by his side when he gulped them and lay back down on the bed.   
“You gonna be alright?” he asked.   
“If my head doesn’t kill me first, then yeah… I’ll be peachy” Dean mumbled, his words muffled by the pillow.   
“Here, I’ll rub some pain relief ointment on your head” Sam offered, grabbing the tube from the nightstand and squeezing a dollop onto his fingers.   
He rubbed the ointment oh his head and slowly massed it. He chuckled when Dean groaned loudly and mumbled ‘magic fairy fingery fingers’.  
It went on for about an hour. Sam gently massaged his aching head and Dean mumbled unintelligible things under his breath. Dean fell asleep right when Sam’s hands started cramping and Sam was thankful for that as he didn’t know for how much longer his hands could continue the massage.   
Not long after, Sam too followed in Dean’s footsteps and conked out.

Morning came way too early for the brothers who had fallen asleep just a few hours ago. Bobby loud yet ‘sweet’ “Wake up, ya ungrateful idjits!!” served as their ‘fall down’ call.   
The two of them groaned when their weary bodies met the cold, unforgiving floor.   
“Sick man here, Bobby” croaked Dean as he got himself up on shaky legs and climbed back onto the bed. He wrapped his trembling frame in the thick blanket till only his eyes were peeking out and snorted as he watched Sam run around the room, still half asleep, like a headless chicken. 

“You boys okay with porridge for breakfast?” Bobby asked, walking into the room. He took one look at the conditions the boys were in and shook his head. He put a thermometer in Dean’s ear and when the numbers bleeped a 102, he pushed the mummified, trembling body to lie down on the bed.   
“Can you manage to swallow porridge or do you want me to make you some soup?” he asked.   
“Neither… I want a hot, greasy…ugh nothing” replied Dean turning green around the gills at the thought of a burger which earned him a smack on his head.   
“I know where you were going! And I don’t want to be the one cleaning up your reject when you puke it all out and I’m guessing, neither does Sam”  
“Soup then… I don’t want to eat a horse’s breakfast… Porridge… ew” said Dean which earned him another smack. 

“You okay with tomato soup, then?” Bobby asked but Dean was too busy snoring away to reply. 

The whole day passed pretty much the same as the previous. Dean eventually shifted his mummified self from the bed to the couch. He watched TV with gritty eyes while Sam and Bobby turned their ‘mother-hen’ modes to full power. When the next day rolled around, Dean’s fever was finally gone and he was as weak as a new born colt. Bobby and Sam didn’t fare any better, the two sore and cranky from lack of sleep. 

“You boys up for a supply run?” asked Bobby on the third morning.   
“We low on groceries already?” Sam enquired, walking into the study.   
“Not groceries, Rufus need a curse box and I don’t have any at the moment. I’m guessing your daddy had the extra ones I built him in his storage locker and I need you to get a few” Bobby said.   
“We need to go to New York?!” gaped Dean who had made his way into the study behind his brother.   
“No, the curse boxes will come running to us then all of us can go shoot Bambi’s mother and make some stew for dinner!” Bobby replied.   
“Huh?”   
“Never mind! Now you idjits gonna do it or do it?”  
“Ooo Bobby gave us two options, Sammy! And I choose… option 2! Do it!” Dean said with a smirk.  
“You guys realize that you’re not making a lick of sense, right?” said Sam, snorting at their senseless bickering.  
“Shut up, Sam!” Bobby and Dean said in unison which sent Sam into a laughing fit. 

A few hours later found the brothers in the Impala, Dean bundled up in layers of blankets and dozing on the passenger side while Sam turned the music on low and drove away towards New York.


	3. Chapter 3

Wake up, Dean… we’re here” said Sam, shaking Dean awake as he turned off the engine.   
“Already? Man, we left just an hour ago? Did my Baby fly?” Dean asked, wiping the crusted drool from his cheek and shrugging off the many blankets from around him.   
“You slept all the way from the diner to here… didn’t move in any direction either” said Sam.   
“Sorry for that…” Dean replied, blowing his nose.   
“Nah, it’s alright. It’s good you slept ‘cause if you hadn’t, I’m sure your fever would’ve returned. You wanna come or stay in the car?” Sam asked, getting out of the car and stretching like a cat.   
“I’m coming with. You can’t get rid of me that easy, Sammy” grinned Dean, the two of them shoving each other playfully before going in to the reception to sign in.   
“You might wanna cover your nose for this” suggested Sam before opening the door to the storage locker. A surge of dust blew in their face and the two of them coughed inspite of having covered their noses and mouths with a cloth.   
“You’d think that a sealed room will be clean of any dust” scoffed Dean and when Sam opened his mouth to say something about that he glared at him.  
“My head’s hurting too much for your trivia, Sam, so save it!” he said at which Sam just shook his head and shoved past him to the back of the locker.   
“You gonna help me carry these or whine?”Sam asked, stacking the curse boxes in his arms.   
“I don’t whine… you’re the pansy… you whine!” Dean said, going to the other side of the rack and looking at everything stacked there.   
“The hell did he do with an hourglass?” Dean asked, eyeing the ancient looking hourglass with an earthen frame that he held in his hands.  
“Hourglasses…uh the ancient ones are believed to house the sands of time. Maybe this is one of the very few…looks old enough” Sam said, glancing at the hourglass curiously.   
“Whatever, Mr.KnowItAll… it all looks the same to me” replied Dean, squinting at it one last time before putting it back on the top. He rubbed his hands and when he pulled a particularly high stack of curse boxes with a little too much force, the hourglass toppled and fell to the floor where it shattered into a million tiny shards and grains of sand scattered everywhere.   
Sam stared at Dean in disbelief at what he’d just done while Dean looked down at the broken pieces that lay at his feet.   
“Where’s the brush?” Dean asked, breaking their daze and flashing a guilty smile. Sam gaped at him like he’d just kicked a puppy on purpose and said he was sorry while Dean for his troubles, hid his gaze from Sam.  
“It’s in the drawer by the table… the dustpan’s there too” said Sam, shaking his head one last time before turning back to the task at hand. 

“I wouldn’t mind some help…” whined Dean, crouching by the mess and sweeping the shards of glass to pile up on the dust pan.   
“Neither would I, so go ahead… help yourself!” said Sam, smirking.   
Dean grumbled something unintelligible and emptied the shards into the trash can. He banged the dustpan just a tad bit too hard and looked at Sam for a reaction but saw nothing but his back. He sighed long and hard and when he turned back to sweep up the sand, he bit back a gasp of surprise.   
“Thanks for cleaning up the sand, Sammy” he said, smiling at Sam with gratitude.   
“What? I didn’t clean anything… don’t you see my hands are full?” Sam replied, showing his occupied hands.   
“Oh… then who was it?” Dean asked, puzzled at the surprisingly spotless floor where not too long ago, particles of sand lay everywhere.   
“Must’ve been the wind… Guess it swept the sand under the racks” suggested Sam, walking out with the curse boxes in his hands.   
“Huh…” said Dean. He closed the storage locker shut and carried the rest of the boxes towards the Impala. They put the boxes in the trunk, got into the car and drove away towards Sioux Falls. 

On the other side of the Storage facility, a figure emerged from the heap of sand gathered on the asphalt, bloodied and with ragged clothes. His eyes were the palest shade of blue and housed a haunted look.   
He looked around himself with confusion marring his features and that was when he took his first breath with a long pull. He smirked with an evil glint in his eyes and stalked off in the same the direction the brothers had taken with a determined purpose. 

Neither brother knew what they’d just let loose out unto the world again… Neither knew the days of horror, destruction and damnation that were to follow…

Neither knew the consequences of their innocent actions…


	4. Chapter 4

The next day…

“…massive strikes of lightning and torrential rainfall have been reported in the city of Brookings, South Dakota leaving the weather forecasters baffled. The scale of destruction is like no other recorded lightning storm in about 500 years. The officials have reported as many as twenty three casualties and many more missing. The ones who were brought to safety are being treated for shock and their mental soundness is being questioned…” 

“The hell is happening?” Dean grumbled, switching off the television and turning towards Bobby and Sam.   
“Did you hear what the reporter said? The mental soundness of the rescued people is being questioned… This storm started out of nowhere when just last night everything was normal… Hell, even in the early morning everything was normal! Doesn't that seem a little suspicious?” Bobby asked, knocking back the last of the whiskey and dropping the glass on the table.   
“So, what’re we thinking here? A demon?” asked Sam, handing them a sandwich each.   
“That’s what I’m going with… but when has anything ever been that easy for us? We need to do more research. Alright, Sammy, Bobby, you hit the books! I’m going to go out and check our arsenal, grab some more salt and other stuff” Dean said, eating his sandwich and avoiding their gaze.   
“Who died and made you boss?” Bobby asked around a mouthful.   
“I did” came the reply with the patent Dean Winchester grin.   
“You’re going strolling for chicks in some random bar, aren't you?” asked Sam, crossing his arms across his chest.   
“Maybe” Dean said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.   
“You know, Dean, it hasn't even been a week since you caught the virus… in a bar nonetheless” Sam said, narrowing his eyes and daring Dean to look at him.   
“These kinds of things keep happening, Sammy… You need to loosen up; maybe you should come along… I can find you some girls too, don’t worry, I won’t let anyone bite” said Dean, smiling up at Sam with boyish excitement. 

“You’re unbelievable” said Sam.   
“I know, I’m awesome” Dean said, that cheeky grin never leaving his face.   
“All right you two, stop bickering like an old married couple! Dean, you’re not going anywhere, restocking the arsenal, sure but no bars… You’re gonna make us some fake ids” Bobby said.   
“Aw, you’re no fun, old man! And don’t we have enough of those already?” asked Dean, pouting like a two year old.   
“No, they have revised the FBI ids and unless you want your ass to get busted, I suggest you do as I say. And Sam, hit the books” Bobby ordered, ignoring the way the brothers glared at each other.   
“Idjits…” 

 

______________________________________________________

 

Brookings, South Dakota 

“So, enjoying yourself yet?” asked the burly man with a large mustache sitting on a bench, eating a slice of pizza to the wiry one next to him.   
“Quite… this is better than last time… We have more sheep and they seem quite stupid too… I thought humanity would have improved, it’s been so many centuries but it’s quite the opposite… they've become more dumb… naïve little creatures” said the other man who was clothed in baggy jeans and sweatshirt.   
“Yeah… but in a way, it’s better for us to do our business. Sure, the nosy apes of hunters often come behind us but otherwise, we have a whole planet worth of food waiting to be eaten! But, I gotta admit, their food is quite marvelous too” said the burly man.   
“I meant to ask, what is that you’re eating with so much delight?” asked the man, eyeing the pizza with morbid curiosity.   
“Oh, this thing? It’s called a pizza… it’s very good. Here, try some” the burly man said, offering a slice from the box to the other man.   
The wiry man took a slice of pizza and cautiously bit into it. He chewed it with a blank expression but within no time, his face lit up in delight and he devoured it, going for another piece.   
“I don’t think the word ‘good’ does it justice. It is marvelous, the many flavors in this one small thing! Get me some more!” he said, polishing off the second piece and reaching for the last in the box.   
“Huh, alright, come on then, let the other two do the work, we’ll go grab some pizza for you” the burly man said, dropping the empty pizza box in the trash can next to him and getting up.   
“Along with the pizza, I need better clothing…” he said, following the man.   
“Sure, man… we’ll get you that ‘sophisticated’ monkey suit! Don’t worry, leave it all to this ‘mighty’ Asura… he’ll take care f it” said the other man.   
“I don’t understand why you’re talking in third person” said the man to the Asura.   
“Oh, forget it… you guys never got sarcasm… my bad!” said the Asura.   
“Well, I don’t think anything could be more ‘sarcastic’ than an angel with an Asura, a Dragon and a Hydra” said the angel.   
“Now, that is irony, not sarcasm… besides, you’re a ‘fallen’ angel” the Asura said, grinning at the angel.   
“You’re getting on my nerve, just be quiet and lead the way”… 

And unaffected by their banter, the chaos prevailed… After all, this was just the beginning of the bigger picture… They still had plans to make… places to go… and creatures to free… 

Meanwhile, in Singer Salvage, two boys and an old, drunk genius got into their vehicles and drove away towards Brookings, South Dakota…  
They had work to do…


	5. Chapter 5

“You really think this is going to work? I know they are stupid but not this stupid” said the Asura, staring incredulously at the angel.   
“She is a grieving woman, she won’t be in a mood to interrogate much” assured the angel.   
“If it had to be friends, why do we have to wear these monkey suits? Won’t that like make her suspicious or something?” the Asura asked.   
At that the angel looked at their outfits and frowned up at him.   
“What’s wrong with them? These are perfectly dignified outfits” he said.   
“I don’t know what’s it with you guys and your love for monkey suits but we aren't attending a funeral here, we are just going to fake offer our condolences while you do whatever the hell you are going to do, so it’ll seem a tad insensitive” the Asura said.   
“Since when do Asuras have feelings?” retorted the angel.   
“Ouch, now that was insensitive. You live around humans long enough, you’ll learn too, chief. Now can we go get something casual to wear?” said he, rolling his eyes at the angel’s bluntness.   
“It isn’t necessary for us to go anywhere. At a snap of my fingers we can have a different outfit” the angel proudly said.   
“Well aren’t you a big proud baby” snorted the Asura.  
“You are starting to annoy me, I’d advise you to shut up” grumbled the angel.   
“Whatever, you big baby” chuckled the Asura.   
The angel glared at him but otherwise kept quiet while the Asura grinned proudly at having shut him up. 

Meanwhile Sam and Dean had already suited up and were at old Mrs. Gunderson’s house.   
“We’re very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Gunderson” Dean said, looking at the old woman with sympathetic eyes.   
“Yeah, me too. Danny was a good boy but these things keep happening and this time, it was his turn to go” said she, dabbing at her damp eyes with a handkerchief.   
Sam looked surprised at how the woman was holding it together. That was some pretty healthy attitude for someone who just lost her son.   
“Why did you boys say you were here for?” she asked.   
“The insurance company is sending agents to all houses to check for any fire damages due to the recent events. We’re just here for an overall check” Sam answered.   
“Oh, then you boys go ahead. There’s one room downstairs and two up the stairs. The kitchen’s in here too. Do you want me to go with?” Mrs. Gunderson asked.   
“We got it, Mrs. Gunderson” Dean said, flashing his charming smile.   
“Oh please, call me Cecile. Mrs. Gunderson makes me feel old” she replied, her cheeks turning a deep red.   
Dean smiled awkwardly and Sam chuckled at her reaction.   
“So, what exactly are we doing here?” Sam asked as they walked toward the bedroom downstairs.   
“Uh, Bobby told us check for anything funky in the houses of all the deceased” Dean answered.   
“Funky? He didn't really say that, did he? And how does it help us to check the houses of the deceased?” asked Sam, retrieving the EMF meter from his blazer pocket.   
“Yup, every word. And maybe we can find some hex bags or something like that which might help us” replied Dean, using his UV light to check for any hidden ‘funky’ symbols.   
Sam shook his head and went back to checking every corner with the EMF meter but was unable to rely on it as the signals were mostly being received from the electric wires but he tried nonetheless.   
When Mrs. Gunderson moved from the living room to her bed, Sam and Dean started checking there too.   
“Huh, this is weird” Dean said as they were checking by the show-case.   
“What?” Sam asked, turning in the direction Dean was looking.   
“This hourglass. It looks exactly like the one we say at dad’s locker a few days ago” he said.   
“The one you broke?” Sam asked, looking closer.   
Dean nodded and took the hourglass in his hands to take a closer look.   
“Even the engravings are the same. You think maybe it’s the same one?” he asked, passing it on for Sam to look.   
“But it was broken. And as far as I know, hourglasses don’t travel long distance. Maybe this is a replica or something” Sam replied.   
“Yeah, but it did disappear” he said.   
“That was just the Sandman, Dean. It must’ve been the wind. Besides, you cleaned up the shards of glass and wood, remember?” Sam said, putting the hourglass back on the rack.   
“Hmmm” Dean said and with one last lingering look, he moved on. 

Just as they were finishing up, the doorbell rang and they quickly hid their instruments and flashed identical smiles and Mrs. Gunderson breezed past them to get the door. 

And so the clash of paths began and fate changed her design to intertwine them…   
This was just the beginning of something much more sinister to come…

**Author's Note:**

> I suck so bad at summaries. Researched this lore and picked the characters and the details from the first book of Enoch!


End file.
